You Had A Boyfriend
by LizBee
Summary: Zuko may not have her honour, but at least she has some self-respect. AU, girl!Zuko/Zhao.


**You Had A Boyfriend (Who Looks Like A Girlfriend That I Had In Èr Yuè)**

by LizBee

* * *

"Now, remind me. How, exactly, was your ship damaged?"

Three years at sea and the princess is almost unrecognisable. There's the scar, of course. Zhao would have thought she'd want to grow her hair to hide it, but instead, Zuko's head is still shaved almost bald, just as the Fire Lord ordered after her disgrace.

It's a shame, thinks Zhao. She always had lovely hair.

He watches her shift in her chair, returning his frankly curious gaze with a sullen sneer. There is nothing girlish left about her, now. The softness he remembers has been replaced by lean muscle, and she sits like a sailor, not a princess. The slash of red paint on her lips is the only feminine thing about her.

For the first time, he is almost sorry that their betrothal ended with her disgrace.

Zhao looks away at last, and meets General Iroh's gaze. For a second, Iroh's expression is flat and unfriendly, the warning clear in his eyes. Then, before his niece can notice the silent exchange, he looks down and busies himself with his tea.

Funny, Zhao thinks. He wouldn't have picked Iroh as a chaperone. He ignores the general and smiles at Zuko.

"Princess," he says, holding out his hand, "let's not be enemies. Let me take you for a walk, show you my resources. And we can discuss strategy."

Zuko hesitates, curiosity mixed with resentment in her face.

"Princess Zuko," says Iroh. _This_ warning is gentle, though Zuko jumps to her feet as if - well, no, she has been burned. Once.

"I can take care of myself," she hisses at her uncle. "Commander Zhao," she says, and he hears an echo of the girl she used to be in her voice, "I would be honoured."

* * *

Zuko looks out over the harbour, and pretends she doesn't know that Zhao is still watching her.

"With my resources and connections," he's saying, "the Avatar would have nowhere to hide." His hand brushes hers, almost by accident. "You could be home before the comet comes."

At home, for a man like Zhao to touch her without permission would be unthinkable. He's only a third cousin, descended from Sozin's sister. She's the crown princess. Was the crown princess.

Azula wouldn't have let it pass.

But then, Azula wouldn't have needed Zhao.

Thinking like Azula has never gotten Zuko anywhere.

"If my father wanted me to have resources and connections, I'd have them. This is a test. I have to prove myself before he'll restore my honour. Alone."

"Princess Zuko," says Zhao, and now he _is_ touching her hand, and there's no doubt it's deliberate, "if your father really wanted you home, he would have let you return by now. Avatar or no Avatar."

"That's not true!"

She rips her hand away from his, not bothering to repress the flames that erupt from her fingers.

"He underestimates you," says Zhao. "I won't make the same mistake."

Zuko turns away and watches the ships below, resting her hands on the cool stone of the cliff wall.

"We were betrothed once." Zhao rests his hands on her armoured shoulders. His breath is in her ear, his cheek against her skull. "Surely we can still be friends."

He kisses the lobe of her ear. Zhao smells of armour and sweat. He's tall and broad and inescapably masculine. She closes her eyes, trying to shut out the memory of the last time someone kissed her, years ago, when she was a different person. _Mai. I'm sorry._ Zhao's arm curls around her, and he loosens her armour. He pushes the underlying layer of clothing aside, warm fingers grazing the skin of her waist.

Zuko shudders against him, moving to meet his lips with her own.

It's awkward and uncomfortable, with the cold sea breeze on her exposed skin, and they're probably visible from the harbour, and she can only imagine what Azula would say. Or Father. Or Uncle. They wouldn't understand. How lonely she is. How alone.

Zhao nips lightly at her lower lip with his teeth. He can sense her awkwardness, she thinks, but he seems to like it. He makes a soft grunt of pleasure, deep in his throat, and his hand clutches at her face, raking his thumb across her scar.

Zuko freezes.

* * *

Zhao is unprepared for the assault. He rebounds off the old stone watchtower, left from the days when this was an Earth Nation base, and lands heavily on the ground at Zuko's feet.

"Funny," he says, trying to catch his breath. "I was led to believe you'd have - problems continuing your father's line."

Zuko, too, is breathing heavily. Her lip-paint is smeared, her lips swollen.

"What was the girl's name again?" he asks.

"Mai."

The name escapes her involuntarily. Poor Princess Zuko, Zhao thinks. Always a willing participant in her own humiliation.

"Yes," he says. "I remember her. She watched your Agni Kai."

This time, Zuko says nothing.

"You're more complicated than I was given to understand. Princess."

"What, Azula didn't tell the whole truth? Now _that's_ unprecedented."

Zhao climbs to his feet.

"We could be a remarkable team, you and I," he says. "An alliance between us, in the form of a marriage-"

Zuko snorts, adjusting her armour.

"You want your throne. I want-"

"Power."

"You're not the only one with a destiny, Princess Zuko."

She exhales slowly, regarding him with wary contempt that makes her resemble her uncle.

"My destiny," she says, "is to capture the Avatar, and regain my throne and my honour. Alone."

"And if you fail?"

"I won't fail."

She turns on her heel and walks away, head held high, as if she has even a shred of honour left to her.

Zhao watches from the cliff as the princess and her uncle leave. When their ship has vanished over the horizon, he descends and finds his second in command.

"Ready the fleet," he says. "We're going hunting."

Zhao watches the preparations, and wonders if, when he captures the Avatar, he should take the princess as well. Offer both to the Fire Lord. Victory and reward.

The moon is rising. Zhao goes inside.

* * *

_end_


End file.
